Aiming For The Sun
by wings59
Summary: Adam Torres
1. Chapter 1

Adam took a deep breath in after placing the large, flattening gauze over _his _chest. He grabbed a large, plaid, brown shirt, and buttoned it up. Putting gel through his fingers, he raced them back in his hair, making it easier to style it just as he wants to. Nailing his hair across his forehead, he put a hat on his head. Lowering his jeans and popping his collar out, Adam tipped his hat over, and left the bathroom.

He turned the corner of the stairs, and headed down the stair-well. Looking at the clock that was on the top of the middle-wall, he sighed.

"Mom," he yelled, taking in a deep breath, "I'm late."

There was a hesitated answer, and a long, frustrated sigh, "Adam, seriously? Again? It's the 3rd week of school and you've already been late, what is it now? 4 times?" the woman's voice paused, "Get in the car, I'll drive you in."

Adam puffed his cheeks and slowly let air out; his mom wasn't the only one angry at him. Walking towards that back door, passing his mother, he walked out to the car. He stopped, and looked at the sky. It was another dark, gloomy, rainy day for Toronto. _Great._

He walked towards the car; dew from the night before falling off trees, and onto the black tar. Making noises only expressed in a child's book, and birds screeching… not chirping. As if something was out to get them, like, a fox that could jump up a thousand feet, and grab the little birds, chomping them into its mouth, no guilt pleading him… no guilt at all.

He opened the car door, climbed in, and slammed it shut. Immediately, he watched, what seemed like, a thousand raindrops, trickling down the car door. He nodded in amazement. It was so beautiful, to him at least. Maybe it was because he had always seemed to like the simpler things in life, rather than simply roll over like most people would do.

Adam noticed his mom. She walked out, looked at the sky, and scoffed. She was never really the one for rain. Neither was she one for sun. Adam let out a smile, and rolled his eyes jokingly. Her heels clacked against the pavement, and she got into the car.

"Yet again, another dreary day. I swear to God, where is the sun?" She sighed angrily.

"Oh, come down, it'll come, I promise," Adam said. There was an intense hint of seriousness in his voice.

"Wake me up when the day comes, honey."

And they drove off, passing the familiar town of which the Torres family blossomed in. There was The Dot, the park, and so many things that were almost too nostalgic to remember. Then, randomly, Mrs. Torres blurted, "I found this beautiful blouse for when the family c-"

"Mom," he waited, but she only continued, explaining the frilly design of this oh-so-special blouse. "Mom!"

She looked at him.

"I am not wearing something like that!" he barked.

"Like what?"

"Something just… something Gracie would wear."

And, at that moment, everything went silent. The tress stopped brushing in the wind, the birds, no longer chirping, and no words left a person's mouth.

It seemed to be the longest car ride in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually, the maroon, big, boxy min-van pulled up to Degrassi. With a long, hesitated sigh, Adam got out of the car, grabbing his bag, and slamming the door shut. He looked at the wind-shield, his mom gave a smile. Adam smiled, but quickly walked away, rolling his eyes.

He kept his head low, looking up every now and then for brief take-ins of the massive school. Just to keep an eye-out for anyone like Bianca DeSousa, just in case she pulled another number on him. Or maybe Mr. Milligan, who is sided alongside Ms. DeSousa.

Adam looked at the side of the entering of the steps. They were sitting right there, with their hangover eyes, and cigarette choking voices. They croaked, "Little Torres! How might this day be for you? Ms. Tranny?"

He felt taken back from this comment. Staring at them like a deer in head lights. But, before he decided to snap, he looked back and took in a deep breath. Pity the ones without love, without friends, without care.

"Just fine, Ms. Pothead," Adam retorted with a sarcastic smile, as he saw Bianca take her hands over her bag, plastic crunching through.

Adam widened his eyes as she shot him a look as if it was speaking itself. Immediately, he walked away. Why anyone would get themselves involed with problems like that was always a mystery to him. Yet, he does believe in fate, so, Adam knows something good will happen to them in the end … all of them. Even if they don't deserve it. Or, at least he doesn't think they do.

The truth of the matter is, you never know what someone is hiding. Whether it be cuts along their arms, or their lunch in the trashcan every day. No one realizes it, which is why 'pity' is such an intimidating thing. People look at the person as if they are of a lower class. As if life is run off a monarchy, and they are the kings, while the others are peasants. Which, all in all sucked because it's manipulation of what you have, and what you don't have, making it either be money, or some deadly sickness. Death or life, happiness or sadness.

Adam looked around the fish of students in the hall of Degrassi's front entrance. It was boisterous, loud, and energizing. Very… Degrassi like. Nothing at Degrassi is ever silent. Ever.

"Adam," a small, happy voice queued.

He turned around, only to see Clare Edwards, standing right behind him, with her striking smile, and bouncing curls of hair.

"Ms. Edwards, how may you be today?" Adam beamed.

Yet, it seemed as if the question only played in his head, cause Clare stopped smiling, and frowned. Like something terrible just acquainted her eyes. Something dark, something… painful.

Adam turned around, and nodded as he realized why Clare was distraught. Eli had just entered the doors.

"You two can't even talk to each other? Still… Clare, c'mon," Adam began, but she didn't seem to be there anymore. He looked behind him, and all that was last seen of her was her green flats, turning towards the walls. As he was still peeking his head over to see if she was still hiding, he jumped at the feel of a hand patting his shoulder.

"Is there a new princess you have your eye on?" said Eli with a sarcastic smirk.

Adam turned around and sighed, No, but it seems that yours has just left. Well… she used to be, I mean…" and he realized that maybe it was best he'd shut up by now.

"Clare? Oh… well, we just, haven't talked… yet," Eli sighed.

"You two can't just be friends?"

"No, okay? Adam, just, you don't know what it's like. Clare and I… we were, we just hurt each other, I guess."

"Yeah, well, now guess who is getting hurt," Adam stared at him longingly and eventually walked away.

As the day progressed, everything seemed to be fine. Until exactly 1:34, as he got ready for his last class of the day.

Adam closed his locker, carrying his books for History class. Last period, 50 more minutes. He reminded himself. It was his only motivation without leaving, or skipping another day. There wasn't anything that kept him going, except his home, alone.

He walked down the hall, making his way to the class. Even if he was a few minutes early, it was worth sitting in a classroom alone, thinking about himself. As he was about to turn the corner of the hall, he saw Owen Milligan and Bianca DeSousa. Just the sight of them made his stomach churn.

"Little Torres! Off to Mr. P so early?" Bianca snickered.

He didn't reply.

"Yeah, getting ready for that big test?" They each began to get closer to him.

He kept his back turned.

"C'mon, let's have some fun, Tranny." And they grabbed him. "How 'bout "Throw Ms. Tranny Across the room?"

"Let go, you freaks," Adam retorted, pulling away.

"Ha, yeah, we're the freaks," Owen laughed as he began pushing him over.

"Stop!" Adam begged, trying to choke back tears.

They kept pushing, but every time, it got more forceful, and more forceful, until they slammed them onto his shoulder and back, slapping his body, and pushing his shoulder towards the ground. His ear was bleeding, and his shoulder was out of place. He heard them run away laughing, but the pain hurt too much to try and yell.


	3. Chapter 3

The school day eventually came to a close. Adam, though, had spent the rest of the day in the 'handicapped' bathroom, trying his hardest not to cry. And, it wasn't that he didn't want to, because, trust me, he did; but more so as to, he didn't want people to know that he actually cared. Most to the fact that pity is terrible, in his eyes, at least. Just the fact that all you hear is "I'm sorry" or "Is there any way I can help" isn't helpful. Because, in all honesty, no, no one can help, because, you either feel that you are asking too much of the person, or too little, to make them feel unwelcomed.

As Adam slowly and quietly opened the storm door of his basement. Slowly, he tipped inside, being quiet because he didn't want his mother to see him. Trying not to make notice that he was home. As he walked through the basement, he heard his mother stomp into the doors. Nervously, he fell back, falling into the table. His side shot up with pain as the wood slammed against his bruised flesh and skin. He loudly yelped in pain, but quickly regretting it as he heard his mom yell his name.

"Adam! Adam, is that you? Did you get hurt?" Mr. Torres yelled as she came down the steps.

Adam tightly clasped his hands around his sides and breathed through his clenched teeth. Every breath hurt like Hell, as if needles were stabbing a bruise. His lips quivered, and his hands shook ferociously. Adam's grip let go of his side after the friction between the warmth of his hands, and his throbbing pain became too much for him to hold. As he let go, his hands shook rapidly, and he almost wanted to fall over and faint.

Immediately, Mrs. Torres' face shot up with a sickened pale. "A-….Adam? Did they?" she paused, "Did th-," and again, "well," And once more, "Did they hurt you?"

Adam stared in shock, but not in a shock in which she found out; but in a shock that she literally just asked that question. This must've been the fifth time this had happened to him this year. That he had come home with intense cuts and bruises; which was what amazed him so much. That she literally questioned if it was true.

"Seriously, Mom?" Adam furiously squeezed the large cut down his arm.

She didn't speak, as if she was disappointed in herself.

"Mom," he stopped, "Mom, please, I think you know."

She hesitated to speak, "W-we can transfer an-"

"And leave Drew miserable? And leave my friends? Mom, leaving will obviously just cause more problems."

"But, obviously this is a pro-"

"Problem, I know. Mom, you were the one person who always encouraged me not to run away from problems. But look at yourself; we've transferred twice because of 'problems'."

"It's cause I'm worried about you!" she yelled.

Taken back, Adam sighed and ran into the bathroom. He locked the door, leaving the pressure of his fingers to fire through the door. He sighed and felt his breathing to become much choppier and much more hesitant.

With his lips quivering, his grip became loose (due to the fierce shaking that his hands were performing as if they were dancing around, just to break free.) Lifting his hand in mid-air, he stared at it, as he watched the control of his body completely break. It was almost heart breaking, realizing that his whole so-far-life, he had allowed himself to run away from this problem without much hesitance. It was ridiculous that his mom ignored her own teachings.

He took off the large, plaid, baggy shirt, and placing it next to him, hanging off the sink's edge. Adam crossed his arms over his stomach, and grabbed the ending tips of his Navy-blue under-shirt. Pulling it up and off of his body, he threw it to the ground. Placing his trembling hands onto the ledges of the sink, he grabbed under it, and stared at himself in the mirror.

"…Tell me you're there. Wait, no, don't tell me, and don't whisper fake words into my ear. I believe that you are there somewhere. Just, why doesn't everyone else? I try to show you every day, every second, every way of life, but it's like, you're scared. Sometimes, I sit and think you aren't. That, you aren't there. You know… give up hope. Please, show me that you're there. Prove them wrong."

He paused and took a long deep breath.

"Please."

And, with a tear leaving his cheek, he walked away.

The End.


End file.
